Words Never Spoken
by Kimmimaru
Summary: Words never spoken can be our greatest regrets. A few brief glimpses into Sirius and Remus' relationship from his arrest to the Prisoner of Azkaban, all written from Remus' Pov. (Slash, non-explicit. Canon compliant)


_AN: A short oneshot encompassing Remus' thoughts from Sirius' arrest for the murder of twelve muggle's and Peter Pettigrew to the Prisoner of Azkaban. Enjoy and any reviews are most welcome._

**Words Never Spoken**

I remember that look he gave me, like someone who had been drowned in terror, burnt alive in fury. I told him, the words slipped out through my numb lips and I watched as he broke. He had always tried to appear so strong, yet I always knew that deep down inside he was as brittle as thin glass and could easily be shattered if handled indelicately. He's known too much heartache but I have to assure myself it is the right thing to do, it has to be. I have no other choice. How can I trust him now? How can I take him back after he has ripped me into all these pieces? I ask myself again; what else can I do?

I never wanted it to start, it was wrong and forbidden what we did. But I am a weak man; I was weak against those big, beautiful eyes. I was weak against those perfectly formed lips. I should have known, and I suppose, looking back, I did know. Sirius Black; a man of unquenchable lust, how could such a man love only a single person? It's laughable. I was a fool. A fool for allowing my heart to rule my head, a fool for allowing his hand to slide so innocently into mine, a fool for allowing our lips to meet that first time. He sucked me in and it was impossible to escape the whirlpool of intensity that is Sirius Black, he is handsome, he is almost unearthly in his passion and when he wants something nothing in this world, magical or otherwise, will stop him from getting it. His desire, his passion…all of it turned me into a simpleton. I wanted a dream, what I saw of Sirius was merely an illusion and I have no doubts, even now, that the only person who truly knew him was James Potter. I allowed my lust to rule my head and paid dearly for it.

They say that when they found him he was laughing. Only a truly insane man can laugh while covered in the blood of so many innocents, poor Peter stood no chance against such a terrible force of rage. None of us ever considered the true depths of Sirius' insanity, least of all me. The man I loved, the man I wanted never existed…it was all lies.

My pain, my sorrow is my driving force. My will to survive exists only because one day I wish to meet the son of Lily and James, it is the only reason I still exist. Someday, perhaps, I will allow myself to love again, but that day will be long in coming.

He was my best friend, my lover, my whole world but it was all shattered the day he said those terrible words to me. We were all suffering, we were all terrified. War was everywhere, we had watched men torn to pieces by Giants, we had heard the screams of the dying and watched helplessly as friends were blasted into oblivion. Yet I always had him to go home to. Every morning after a full moon I would come home and crawl into bed with him, he was gentle, loving, tender. We made love in virtual silence, his body pressed against mine, our breathing as one. I will never forget those wonderful mornings; I will never forget the way his eyes shone with what I thought was true happiness. Afterwards he made me breakfast, tended my wounds from my transformations and embraced me. They say that love is blind, never have I heard a truer statement.

They say that when he was found he never fought. They say that all he did was laugh. I remember seeing that insanity in his eyes before, we had ignored it. He was a powerful wizard, no one denied it, but he took it too far. Only James seemed to be able to reign in his more sadistic side, he acted like a leash for the mad dog. James was true master of Sirius, I could never hope to ever control him in the way he did, with a single word snapped like a muggle army sergeant. When I tried Sirius laughed at me.

They say that Peter had tried to corner him, that he had tried to capture him alone…Peter never had half of Sirius' raw power. The poor man didn't stand a chance. I remember his memorial service, his plump mother sobbing desperately into a handkerchief as they buried the only bit of him they could find, his finger. I never spoke to her, she looked at me as if it was all my fault…perhaps it was. Perhaps my devotion and love for Sirius had somehow prevented me from seeing the madness within…who knows?

What would I say if I could speak to him now? That is a question best left unanswered. My pain and fury have no outlet; they turn inwards and begin to devour me from the inside out. I don't fight it, what would be the point? If I had realised my mistakes, if I had, perhaps, never left Sirius that terrible evening, then maybe I could have stopped him from murdering Peter and giving away Lily and James. Maybe if I had not been so stupid I could have saved so many…or maybe, if I had not been so involved in my own agony, I could have seen the darkness eating away at my lover. Perhaps I could have saved his soul…Or maybe I am simply being arrogant.

This world is a cruel and terrible place, I lie alone at night wishing that he would hold me. He murdered one of my best friends, led two others to their deaths and killed twelve muggles yet I crave him still. Perhaps I am the insane one? Perhaps, after all these years I have finally cracked? It seems to be more true every day. I don't know how much longer I can live like this, trapped in my self-inflicted darkness and wishing with every breath that I could turn back time and crawl into bed with him one last time.

A werewolf, in love…the very idea is repulsive! What right does a monster such as myself have to have happiness? What right do I have to live in the light? No. I am a creature of the night and so I will stay, until the day this worn body finally gives up I shall walk in the shadows. I am coward, such a terrible coward…I can't even take my own life.

So many scars, so much heartache. I received the most disturbing news today, they say that Sirius Black has escaped. This terrifies me. It terrifies me and yet…

Dumbledore has asked me to return to Hogwarts, a place of memories and pain yet I will not refuse the man. I owe him everything and I would so dearly love to see Harry Potter again, I wander how much he has grown? Who will he more resemble at thirteen? Last I saw of him he had his father's looks with his mother's eyes but baby's change so frequently it is difficult to tell.

He is his father come again! I saw him on the train, a Dementor decided to attempt to attack him but I drove it off. He is exceptional, a perfect combination of his mother's kindness and his father's mischievous streak. I love him like I loved Lily and James; Harry Potter is going to become a great man.

The year has passed far more quickly than I would have thought, it is a joy to teach and apparently I have a talent for it. I suppose it comes from years of trying to teach Peter…but I try to avoid thinking about those I have lost. Sirius Black has apparently attempted to infiltrate the castle, this caused a minor uproar as they have no idea how he is managing to get past the Dementors…should I tell them? I am torn in two. I should tell Dumbledore that he is an unregistered Animagus, it would be the right thing to do…but I…I find that I can't do it. The words dry up in my mouth as I remember the times in the Shack, so many, many years ago. I remember waking up to find those inquisitive silver eyes gazing back at me, when he realised that I was ok that smile would spring onto his face and light the whole world. If I had only known then…if I had only managed to prevent my heart from speeding up in those moments, if only I had stopped him when his lips met mine…maybe then I could have spared myself a great deal of agony.

Once again Black has managed to enter the castle, it is fortunate that the boy he tried to attack was woken up. I can't help but feel that I am somehow responsible for it all, I still can't tell them about my friends' secrets. Is it some kind of misplaced loyalty that seals my lips? Is it, perhaps, that I have no wish to tarnish the memory of James and Peter? Or is it because that I still…No, I refuse to accept that.

I had the map open on my desk, and I stare down at the impossible names on the familiar parchment. It cannot be true…it can't be! But the map never lies. We enchanted it so that it can't lie. I could feel my heart hammering desperately in my chest, I can't even breathe. If Peter Pettigrew is alive…if he is truly there and my over-tired mind isn't playing tricks on me, then there is something vital that I have missed. There is a chance…a tiny, miniscule chance that I was wrong. I stood up, knocking my chair backwards. It was impossible, but the map never lied. It was a hallucination, surely…it had to be…it must…

As I ran there was no other thought in my mind. I suppose I should say that I was running to save Harry, Ron and Hermione; it would sound much more heroic than the truth. Unfortunately the truth is never as good as fiction, I ran because all I could think about was him. I only wanted one thing. I wanted to embrace him, I wanted to throw myself into his familiar arms and once again have my heart shattered into a thousand pieces. I wanted to grab him, shake him and tell him how much I had missed him, I wanted to kiss him, to have his hands on my body. He was there, in the shack. He was lying on the floor with a big orange cat on his chest, Harry pointing wands at him with a grim set to his young mouth. No. No I couldn't let it happen. I had to know…I had to make sure…

Innocent. Sirius Black was innocent. The joy in my heart is indescribable, I can't even begin to express my feelings of mixed horror and pain and intense relief. I wasn't wrong. I wasn't at fault. Oh Merlin…Sirius…

So many years of agony, torment and self-hatred has changed the man I love. He is no longer quite the man I knew, yet he's alive. He's warm, his lips still familiar, his hands still gentle. I missed him. I never stopped. He knows it, there has never been any need for words between us. Although I know that this first night of passion beneath the stars must come to an end, I have extreme difficulty in letting him go. I should. I should let him escape on Buckbeak because the ministry will hunt for him, and if they catch him the words of a few people will not be enough to prevent them from taking away everything that is him. As the waning moon rises above the forest I lie in his arms, he kisses the bridge of my nose and I can feel his heart beating against my palm. As he runs one hand up my scarred back he whispers to me; _Forgive me, Remus. _And who can resist that plaintive tone, that wonderful, beautiful honesty. I smile, I can't help it. Everything I have ever wanted, everything that makes me who I am is in this man, so I reply with an honesty of my own. Words which we have never uttered before but are long overdue; _I love you._


End file.
